


Awakening

by Opal_ex_Machina



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: F/M, First Time, but also really kind of sweet, it's gonna be awkward, kind of a slow build up to it, maybe just the slightest bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2018-12-30 14:58:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12111219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opal_ex_Machina/pseuds/Opal_ex_Machina
Summary: The day before she is set to leave for the Spring of Power, Princess Zelda finds herself spirited out of the castle by her Knight.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> For context, this takes place between the memories ‘Father and Daughter’ and ‘Slumbering Power’.

Zelda hunched over her desk, shoulders slumping as her pen moved spastically across the page of her diary, one moment quick and angry, each period splattered and imperfect as she jabbed furiously into the page, the next slow and hesitant as though the ink itself refused to form words. 

A soft, almost hesitant knock sounded, and Zelda sighed softly as she sat up strait, returning the quill to its ink stand, and moved her diary, still open so as not to smudge any wet ink, into a drawer away from any prying eyes before calling out, “Enter,” not bothering to mask the exasperation in her voice. As she heard the door open, she turned to face whoever it was, hoping that her expression would send them away as quickly as possible, but her face relaxed when she realised it was Link standing in the doorway. 

“I barely recognised you without your tunic,” she gave him a tired smile. “What are you wearing?” 

He ran a hand through his hair, which he’d taken out of its usual ponytail. “I’ll explain that in a minute. I just wanted to make sure you were okay, after everything this afternoon.” 

“I’ve been better, but it’s not as though father didn’t say anything untrue or uncalled for.” 

For a moment, Link made a face as though he wanted to disagree, but thought better of it. “I know we need to leave for the Spring of Power early tomorrow, but I thought it would be nice to do something to help get your mind off… everything.” 

“I’m assuming this is why you’re dressed like a farm boy?” 

Link glanced down at himself and nodded.

“And what exactly does this something entail?”

He gave her a grin, something that had grown less rare in recent months but was always surprisingly disarming. “That’s a surprise. Just, trust me?” He said the last sentence as though it were a question, as though he hadn’t already given her all the reasons in the world to trust him. 

“With my life,” she responded with a genuine, though still not happy, smile. 

His own smile widened, and he slid a bag from his shoulder and handed it to her. “Get changed into this. I’ll be waiting in the hall.” 

He quickly turned and left, and when she opened the satchel he’d handed her, he realised why he’d run away so quickly. She bit her lip as she pulled out a skirt and shirt made of coarse linen, a rough wool jacket- both decorated with crude embroidery in faded oranges and browns- followed by a shapeless knit hat and worn leather shoes. 

“What in Hylia’s name does he have planned?” Zelda murmured to herself on a short sigh.

She changed quickly, skin itching against fabric more coarse than any she’d ever worn before. Feeling exasperated, she walked out into the corridor, the ugly hat hanging limply from her hand. Link stood up from where he’d been sitting against the wall and smiled at her. 

“How do I look?” she asked with a quick twirl.

“Unrecognisable,” was the response.

“Well, I feel ridiculous. And I absolutely refuse to wear this awful thing,” she muttered sharply, brandishing the hat in front of Link’s face. “Whatever this is you have planned had better be worth it.” 

He snatched the hat from her and shoved it into on of his trouser pockets. “I hope it will be. Now please be quiet. We need to get down to the kitchen without anyone noticing us and we only have another minute or two before the patrol comes down this way. 

She nodded and followed him on feet as silent as she could manage. 

Fortunately, the east wing of the castle was primarily bedrooms, and so was nearly empty at this time of day, so only their footfalls echoed through the wide, clean halls. Despite spending little time in the kitchens, Zelda at least knew where they were, though why he was even taking her to the kitchen dressed like some peasant she could not begin to fathom. However, instead of following the routshe knew to be the shortest, Link pulled aside a heavy tapestry, which concealed the low, arched entrance to a small, musty corridor. Link gestured down it with his head. “After you, princess.”

He led her along a meandering path, through hallways that grew smaller and more winding while the familiar, lush tapestries were replaced with dusty, threadbare wallhangings, which eventually faded into cool, naked stone. Zelda had thought herself acquainted with the whole of the castle, but found herself totally unsure of where they were. Link seemed to know where they were going, at the very least, and had clearly chosen a path where they would meet as few people as possible. 

Once on this seemingly endless trek, they heard voices bouncing towards them from deeper in the belly of the castle, and, wordlessly, grabbed her wrist and whirled her into a shadowy alcove, his free hand coming up with lightning speed to cradle the back of her head before it smacked into the stone of the wall. He hid himself in the shadows beside her and raised a finger to his own lips.

The voices billowed and distorted through narrow passageway, mingling with heavy footfalls and the clank of armour, only becoming intelligible when the speakers were barely feet away from them.

“…and I swear, they were the biggest I’ve ever seen.”

“Were they really?” a second voice cut in with equal parts sarcasm and disinterest. 

“Well, yeah,” the first responded, evidently overestimating of his companion’s level of engagement with the story. “She’s a great fairy. Of course her breasts are amazing.”

Somewhat surprised and feeling more scandalised than she should, Zelda looked up at Link through the hazy darkness and saw him roll his eyes. 

“Someone you know?” she asked in a whisper, once the voices had faded. 

He wiggled the fingers still trapped behind her head, and she moved“He’s told me that story three times, and it only gets less believable.” 

“Less believable than seducing a Great Fairy?”

“You didn’t even hear the part about the Lynels.” 

Zelda widened her eyes in mock fascination. “Did he seduce them too?” 

Link looked at her, his eyes serious, and in a low voice answered, “That would have made more sense.” 

She laughed and he clapped a hand over her mouth. “We’re almost there.” 

Soon the cramped hallway grew uncomfortably warm and she could hear a loud hum of indistinguishable voices and clanging utensils. Link glanced back at her over his shoulder. “I think we’re probably in the clear now.”

“I hope you weren't just planning on taking me to the kitchens. If you were you could have taken me a much shorter rout. And let me wear my own clothes.” 

His eyes lit up as a crooked grin slunk onto his face. “Nope. I’m sneaking you out through the kitchens.”

She stopped suddenly. “Out? As in out of the castle? Link we can’t! We leave for the Spring of Power tomorrow. My father would kill you if he found out. My father might kill _me_ if he found out…”

Link had stopped and turned to face her, and he reached out, grasping her shoulders. “Zelda.” He so rarely said her name that the surprise of it quieted her. “Trust me.” This time those words held not a hint of questioning, just a soft command that she knew she was powerless to disobey. 

She bit her lip and nodded, and then, to her surprise, his arms snaked around her back and pulled her against him in a gentle hug. 

It was over in a moment, and he was back off down the corridor, one of his hands tugging lightly at her wrist until she followed. 

Startled, she stumbled for a moment before regaining her stride, feeling the blush on her cheeks deepen when he didn’t drop her wrist, but kept it clasped gently in his hand. 

* * *

Zelda had seen the kitchens before, but on the rare occasion she had followed her father on his inspections of the castle workings, they had been immaculate, the head chef and his assistants largely unoccupied and ready to be asked anything by their employers.

But now, the place was a flurry of activity, the cramped space sweltering from the large fires roaring in several different ovens; people pushed too and fro, arms full of ingredients or laden with platters or knives or oversized dishes, shouting over the clatter of pots; a haze of smoke and flour hung in the air while the smells of meat, and blood, and spices competed for attention. Overwhelmed, Zelda wormed her wrist away from Link’s grasp and clutched at his hand, an anchor to the comforting familiarity of him. He squeezed her hand reassuringly. 

No one really seemed to notice them amidst the bustle, unless they got in someone’s way. But with a “sorry” from Link and a tug on her hand to pull her aside, they would brush past with hardly a sideways look at her. 

A portly, red faced man who Zelda recognised as the head chef looked up at them over a mound of dough, and Link waved. The man smiled for a moment by way of response and then went back to kneading. 

“Do you know him well?” Zelda asked, almost shouting over the din.

Link glanced back at her, looking slightly chagrinned. “I spend more time down here than I should,” was his response. 

A wide, arched doorway led out of the kitchen down a steep flight of steps. As they climbed further down the stones grew cool and damp, and the air fresher as the smell of spices faded. 

“You’re taking me to the docks? Surely it would be faster just to go out the front gate.”

He nodded. “It would be faster, yes, but it wouldn’t count as sneaking you out.” 

She laughed, the sound bouncing and multiplying in the small space. “I suppose you’re right.” 

The docks were another area or the castle which Zelda barely knew, but as the twisting staircase opened up into a low, sloped cavern which trapped and magnified the whooshing of the water into a persistent roar, she decided she felt no need to be better acquainted with it. 

Fingers still entwined with his, Zelda allowed herself to be led down to the water and helped onto a small raft already laden with crates. 

Link gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and with a reassuring, “I’ll be back in a minute,” and waded off somewhere deeper into the cave. 

Zelda sat back against an empty crate, watching shadows cast by a low flame sputtering in a brazier dance across the uneven ceiling. 

True to his word, Link soon returned, a lanky, pockmarked man following in his wake. 

Together, they pushed the raft away from the shore and splashed up onto the raft. Link sank down against the crates next to her and the second man used a long paddle to propel them further towards the mouth of the cave. 

“She a friend of yours?” he asked Link, looking at her from the sides of his eyes. 

Fluidly, Link draped an arm across her shoulders. “You could say that,” he responded with a casual tip of the head and a crooked grin. 

The man gave a short snort that was almost a laugh, and glanced at her in a predatory sort of way that made Zelda shrink back against Link’s arm. 

They didn’t speak again until the raft had crunched against the gravel on the shore of the moat and Link had helped her back onto solid ground, something for which Zelda was grateful. And when he did speak, it was a simple, “See you next time,” clearly aimed at Link rather than at her. 

Link nodded. “Thank you for the ride.” 

The man gave another snort, muttered “It was no problem,” and, without looking back at them, set off towards a burly man standing by a wagon loaded with more crates. 

Link turned slightly and gave her a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that Benton would be working the docks today. He’s kind of a creep.” 

Zelda waved a hand in dismissal. “No, it’s quite alright. But I am dying to know what you have planned now that you’ve gotten me out of the castle.” 

His smile widened. “I have Galen tethered just over there,” he said with a wave of his hand somewhere to the left, and she could see his sturdy bay tied loosely to a tree. “Once we get him, we’re going to go off to Castle Town. I thought that seeing how the other half lives might be a good distraction from, well, everything right now.” 

She laughed when he took her hand again and started walking in the direction of his horse. “So that’s why you have me dressed like this. Where did you get these clothes anyway.” 

“I stole them from my sister-in-law’s sister the last time she came to visit. She lives up in Tabantha, and I figured they might come in handy some day, and she hasn't written about them yet.” 

Zelda laughed and tugged at the skirt’s waistband; Link’s sister-in-law’s sister seemed to have a slightly larger waist than she did. “If my father knew you had such a criminal streak he would never have let you enlist, let alone become my personal guard.” 

With aroguish grin, he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her against his side. “My criminal streak?” he said with mock indignation. “If he knew half of what you got up to he’d never let you out of his sight.” 

“I’m not a child. Even if he didn’t let me, I’d find a way out anyway.” 

She snorted to emphasise her point, and Galen snorted in response, making Zelda jump. 

Link chuckled, patting the horse’s shoulder. “Do you want a hand up?”

She nodded, and grinned as he wrapped his hands around her waist, hoisting her up onto the horse’s back. She perched there in an awkward semblance of side saddle, and Link made a face. 

“Sorry it’s not a riding skirt. I didn’t think about that.” 

“Oh, it’s quite alright,” Zelda chirped as he moved to untie the horse. “I’m so used to wearing trousers that I hadn’t thought of it.” 

Link nodded. “Women in trousers is still unusual enough of a sight to catch a few eyes, and then we’d run a greater risk of someone recognising you,” he said as he passed her the reigns. 

“You know, I’ve never ridden bare back before,” she said, hands tight against the thin leather straps. 

He swung up behind her with a practiced ease, wrapping his arms around her and wresting the reigns from her hands. He clucked, and Galen began to walk, jostling her back against him. “Well, I’ve never kidnapped a princess from her castle before.”

With a light kick to the horses side, he urged Galen to a trot, and Zelda, still perched side saddle, began to slip. She clutched at Link’s knee, and he wrapped his arms tighter around her, pulling her back against his lap; she felt herself blush. 

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I guess I didn’t think this through all the way. I’ve ridden Galen with two people before, but we could both sit astride.” 

“Oh, it’s alright. It’s not far to Castle Town from here.”

* * *

The wide cobbled streets of Castle Town bustled with activity. Brightly coloured cloth and paper decorations hung everywhere, stretched from building to building across the thoroughfare, and street vendors loudly hawked their wares.

Zelda stayed close in by Link’s side, unused to being so crowded. “I don’t remember Castle Town being quite this busy the last time I was here,” she almost shouted at Link.

“People tend to stop and make way for the Princess,” he responded, leaning close to her ear so she could hear without having to shout. “Though it’s not usually quite like this,” he added after a pause. “The harvest moon festival is in a few days, so people have come from all over Hyrule for the celebration. That’s also why all these decorations are up.” 

“I’d forgotten there was a festival. What’s it like?”

Link shrugged. “I’ve never been able to go. But from what I’ve heard, it’s mostly dancing and people getting drunk and yelling. I’m surprised you’ve never been woken up by it. They usually make enough noise to rouse the dead. Though I think the idea is to rouse the Spirit of Power.” 

“Since I was a child, I’ve spent the harvest moon at the Power’s Sacred Spring. Though ultimately, I suppose we’re all trying to do the same thing.” 

She gave him a weak smile when he glanced over at her. “Don’t think about it. Tomorrow, or the Spring or anything. This is supposed to be a distraction.”

The narrow side street they were on opened suddenly into the central square. Her eyes went to the fountain in it’s centre. An old man in worn clothes leaned down to drink from it, a young woman with trailing silk sleeves caught her reflection in it before hurrying past, a pair of children were splashing each other with the clear water, and looming over it all stood the symbol of Hyrule, the triforce. 

Without really thinking, she gnawed her lip. This symbol- a constant reminder of her own failures- seemed inescapable.

Noticing her gaze, Link pulled her into the shadowed colonnade wrapped around edge of the square, her back to the fountain. She turned her head to glance back, but he caught her face in his hand before she could, gently pulled her gaze back to him. 

“None of that matters. Not today. Not ever, if you don’t want it to, but especially not today.” His face was earnest, burning with a quiet intensity. 

She gnawed her lip again, noticed him watching her mouth. “If only that were true,” she murmured wistfully. 

“We can go somewhere else if you want to.” 

“No, I’ll be alright,” she responded. 

He brushed his thumb over her cheek and she leaned into his palm. 

Surprising herself, she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around him, hugging him close. His hand moved to cradle the back of her head against his shoulder, while the other went to her waist, pulling her flush against him. 

“I meant what I said,” he almost whispered against her hair, “it doesn’t matter if you don’t want it to.” 

They stayed like that for a long moment, until a passing stranger gave a scandalised _humph._ Pulling back from her, but with his arm still around her waist, he tugged her over to the fountain, dodging a small, white dog on the way, and gently pushed her down to sit on the fountain’s edge. 

“Wait here, okay,” he said quickly, smiling. “I’ll be right back.” 

She nodded, still flushed from the feeling of his body pressed up against hers and from the embarrassment of being noticed by a stranger. 

Her eyes followed him until he disappeared into the crowd, before turning and dipping her fingers into the cool water of the fountain, watching as her reflection puckered and distorted. With a sigh, she turned back to watch the people who sauntered past her. 

A young couple strolled by, arm in arm and clearly oblivious to the world around them. A child with dirt stained knees tore past her, stopping and turning back when a pregnant woman with mousy hair called him, a look of exhaustion on her face. The dog trotted merrily over to a corpulent woman in silks, following her into a house on the square’s edge. 

She basked in the anonymity, the ability to watch without being noticed. She had been to Castle Town before, of course, but never without a proper escort and clothes which marked her status. But now she was just a girl, unworthy of any particular notice, and could watch people as they were, not as they acted for their princess. 

She was too lost in observation to notice the man come up beside her until he made himself know with, “Hello, lovely. I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” 

Surprised, Zelda turned to see a young man, dark haired and handsome in a lean, hungry way. Trying to remember where Link’s sister-in-law was from, she stared, wide-eyed, at him for a moment before responding, “I’m from the Tabantha frontier.” 

He stood above her, leaning down. “What brings you all the way to castle town then, little flower?” 

Zelda had to confess herself at somewhat of a loss as to how to respond. His intentions were both apparent and unwanted. Her first instinct was to order him away with an imperious toss of her hair, but dressed as she was, she doubted she could muster much authority. Stutteringly, she responded, “I’m visiting family. My, err, husband's family.” 

He arched a dark eyebrow. “Husband, eh? I wonder where he is? If I had a woman like you, I don’t think I’d ever let you out of my sight.” He reached out and caught a piece of her hair between his fingers.  
She jerked back, tugging her hair free. “Oh, well…” silently, Zelda prayed Link would come back. If ever there was a time for the gods to hear her, it was now. “He’s just gone to… he’ll be back soon, I’m sure…” 

And then, there he was, her sandy haired saviour. Frantically, she met his eyes and he beganelbowing his way through the crowd. 

“Here he is, now,” she said, grinning broadly as he sat down next to her. 

“Take this,” Link said, passing her something warm and wrapped in a leaf and tied in twine. He wrapped his now free hand around her waist and pulled her close. An easy smile on his face, Link looked up at the man. “Can I help you with anything?” he asked brightly. 

His mouth twitched before answering, “I was just heading on my way,” and walking away back into the crowd. 

“Thank you,” Zelda breathed out, letting her head fall against his shoulder. 

“It’s my job.” he said simply. “Are you okay?”  
She nodded. “What is this?” she asked, holding up the parcel he had given her. 

“Unwrap it and you’ll see.” he responded cryptically.

She complied, untying the twine and unwrapping the leaf to reveal a ball of rice, moulded into a vague triangle. 

Link had unwrapped his own, and was looking at her expectantly. “It’s food. Eat it.” 

“Somehow I should have known there’d be food involved,” She grinned over at him before leaning down and taking a bite. 

The mild flavour of the warm rice was cut through with succulent meat, tender, slightly sweet.

She looked up at Link, her eyes bright. “This is delicious.” 

He swallowed quickly; his was already half gone. “You think? It’s just a rice ball with meat.”

She nodded vigorously, and grinned.

“My mother’s are better. I’ll make them for you sometime when we’re traveling. It’s really easy, though my mother’s recipe uses mushrooms.” 

She grimaced. “Oh no, I hate mushrooms.” 

“No, you just think you hate them because Gotterdoesn’t know how to cook them.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Is that so, now?”

He nodded confidently, next bite of food already in his mouth.

* * *

She gently fingered the necklace that hung by her chest. She knew that the gem was glass and the setting cheap, but Link had bought her when it caught her eye.

Lying on her back in Hyrule field in borrowed clothes with him at her side, she felt more at ease than she had in months.

She turned her head to see his profile barely illuminated by the waxing moon. “Thank you for today. It was wonderful,” she whispered, almost like a sigh. 

He hummed an acknowledgement without turning his face from the sky. 

She looked back up, hunting for the constellations he always found with ease amid the countless pinpricks of light above them, falling back into a comfortable silence. 

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment. 

“For what?” she asked, turning her head to look at him. 

“For not saying anything to your father this morning. I…”

“Don’t be sorry. It wasn’t your place.” 

He turned to stare back at her, earnest eyes wide. “But it _was_ my place. Zelda, I’m your appointed knight; it’s my duty to defend you, even from you father.” 

She sat up, turning to face him. She chewed on her lip, looking for words. She could see his eyes gleaming inthe dark, watched them flicker from her eyes to her lips, and then back again, almost too quick to notice. 

She braced an arm next to his shoulder and leaned down, her hair falling like a curtain over them. 

It was barely a kiss. Her lips met his for the barest of moments before she pushed herself back, face already flaming and an apology forming in her throat. But before she could speak, he sat up, grabbing her face in his hands, and pulled her back to him. 

His kiss was forceful, almost frenzied, his rough fingertips burning against her skin. 

For a moment, she was too shocked to react, but then she was kissing him back, her movements clumsy and unpracticed. 

Soon her lungs were burning and she forced herself back, panting, her lips swollen and her face flaming. 

He lay back down with a heavy sigh, not meeting her eyes, with a look on his face that she couldn’t quite name. 

“Did I do something wrong,” Zelda asked tentatively, suddenly insecure about her lack of experience. 

“No, not at all,” he insisted fervently, finally looking at her. “It’s just…” he continued after a brief pause, “I shouldn't have done that.” 

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Do you regret it?” 

“Yes and no.” At the look of hurt that flashed across her face he elaborated haltingly, but with an uncharacteristic eloquence. “I don’t regret that it happened, but you deserve someone much better than I am, and it wasn't fair of me to ask something of you that you can't give.” 

With an almost imperceptible sigh, she lay back down next to him, taking his hand and entwining his fingers with hers. “Don’t regret anything. Whatever I give you, I give because I want to.” 

He turned to look at her, his eyes gleaming in the starlight, and she felt her own eyes flutter closed as he once again closed the distance between them. This time his kiss was soft and deliberate, and seemed to her to stretch into eternity. 

Far too soon, he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers and running a thumb along her cheekbone.

“You know, I envy you,” she breathed against his lips.

He pulled back enough to look in her eyes, his face confused. “Why?”

“Everything has just come so easily to you. You just don’t know what it’s like. What it’s like to feel the weight of all this expectation pressing in on you constantly.”

He looked at her with a depth in his eyes that scared her. “You’re not the only one with an inescapable destiny, princess.”

“Link, that's not…” 

He stood up before she could finish, holding a hand out to her. “We should get back to the castle. It’s late.” 

They spent the ride to the castle in a thorny silence.His arms around her were stiff, his posture rigid. She wanted to say something, but without knowing exactly what had gone wrong, she had no idea how to make it right again. 

He hadn't been like this, even when, in her resentment of his success, she had tried with all her might to force him away from her.

His rejection stung, and was compounded by the sense of shame growing as she realised just how deeply her rejection of him must have hurt. 

They reentered the castle through the front gates. At this hour, no one was afoot to recognise them but the solitary gate keeper, a friend of Link’s. 

He said goodbye to her in the first courtyard they came to. “I trust you can find your way from here,” he bowed stiffly. “Goodnight princess.” And then he was gone, leading Galen in the direction of the stables. 


	2. Chapter 2

While Zelda would have preferred to ride to the Akkala Citadel with just Link, her father insisted on her being accompanied by a large retinue worthy of her status. In the end, she had agreed to a compromise- a handful of knights, two wagons, and a severe faced lady’s maid. 

However, Zelda realised that Link, given his current mood, would make a more taciturn companion than normal, and was almost glad of the extra company. Though, she mused sullenly, had they been alone, it would have been much harder for him to avoid her. 

As they threaded their way along the northern bank of the Hylia river, Link rode ahead of the party, always within eyesight of her. Having refused to ride in the wagon with the lady’s maid, she now sat astride Alban, flanked by a pair of knights. Though, as her horse tugged violently at his reigns, nearly jerking them from her hands, she was forced to admit that riding was not the wisest choice, as she had yet to boast of complete mastery over the spirited white horse. She had taken him, his snowy coat instantly recognisable as belonging to the royal family, as opposed to the more pliable mare she usually rode, again at her father’s insistence. 

Northern Akkala had for many years been an independent country following a relatively peaceful secession generations before, until Zelda’s grandfather had reclaimed it in a bloody conquest; though the region was sparsely populated, it was still a breeding ground of dissent and sedition. And though her father feared not for her safety as long as she was with Link, a show of authority from the Hylian royal family, though it was as seemingly insignificant as a white horse, always served as a potent reminder.

The whole party rode in silence, Zelda’s eyes flickering every few moments to Link’s back while his remained firmly on the horizon. 

She could still feel the press of his lips against her own, still feel his hands, one resting on her waist, the other cradling her face. And as her mind drifted from memory to imagination, she could feel his hand wander higher, caressing her breast as his lips ghosted down over the column of her neck, his breath ragged, and then she would feel herself flush and reprimand herself.

She was going to the Sacred Spring of Power to offer sacred prayers to its deity; she could not allow herself to be tainted by such thoughts. 

But he had smelled like sandalwood, masculine and clean, and how could she possibly think about anything else when he was angry with her.She’d decided what she needed to say to him, but catching him alone proved impossible. 

The day seemed to stretch into an eternity of being jostled in the saddle, but when the sun started to dip meaningfully towards the horizon and the clouds began to show just the faintest blush of sunset, she watched as Link circled back around, stopping before her and her guards.

“We should stop and camp here for the night.” He said without meeting her eyes.

“I disagree,” she said imperiously, for no other reason than wanting to be contrary. “There’s still plenty of light, and I think the more distance we cover today, the better.” 

“I know it’s still light, but the rest of the road is a fairly narrow mountain pass. Camping there is as good as an invitation to thieves. There’s nowhere else for us to camp between here and the citadel.” When he was finished, his eyes flashed up to meet hers for a moment. 

She sighed. She knew he would never disobey her, not in front of his fellow knights, but she also knew he was right. “So be it,” she said, dismounting. She turned to the knight on her right, “Go tell the company to set up camp for the night.”

He nodded silently and rode back towards the wagons. She turned back to Link, but he had already ridden off, presumably to sweep the area for monsters or other dangers of a more human ilk. 

* * *

Later that night, Zelda sat up alone, the sheikah slate throwing a soft glow over her.She had long since managed to unlock it’s basic functionality, but other than it’s remarkable photographic ability, it was really no more than a glorified journal. It must be capable of doing more, if only she could figure out how.

She set it aside, more forcefully than necessary in her frustration. 

One of the wagons had been covered to a makeshift bedchamber for her, its floor piled with rugs and furs, and though she resented all of the fuss that had been made about the journey, and would never have admitted it, she really did find it preferable to sleeping on a thin pad in a tent, as she had been doing of late.

And yet, despite the company, she had to admit that it was proving to be a lonely trip for her. 

After a simple dinner, the maid had helped her change, roughly brushed out her hair, and then promptly left to go join the knights around the fire.

She could hear their voices, not clear enough to make out any words, but their laughter was evident as in rolled into the night. 

She glanced outside, but couldn’t see Link by the fire. 

She knew that she would never be able to focus on her prayers with a guilty conscience, and this would likely be the last time she could talk to him alone before they reached the citadel. 

Wrapping a blanket around her shoulders like a shawl, she walked silently out into the night, glancing quickly towards the knights gathered at the fire. None of them had noticed her, so she hurried on. Their camp sight was bordered by mountains to the north and a river to the south- ‘more defensible,’ Link had said the last time they camped here. While he enjoyed climbing, she doubted he would do it in the dark, and so she hurried to the river bank. 

It didn’t take long for her to spot him. He was clearly lost in thought, head propped on his hand as he sat, looking out at the water. 

She stole up next to him and sat down, and he still didn’t seem to notice her. 

“It’s beautiful tonight,” she said softly, startling him. 

He jumped, hand going instinctively to the sword on his back.

She grabbed his arm, “It’s okay; it’s only me.” 

She could see his shoulders relax, but he stood up anyway. “I’m sorry, Princess. I should go.”

“No, stay,” she murmured.

She knew he would never disobey her. 

He sat down beside her again, his posture rigid. 

“This is the head of the Zora River, correct?” she asked softly, tucking her bare feet under her and wrapping herself tighter in the blanket. 

He hummed a wordless affirmation. 

Her fingers rapped against her knee; she bolstered her courage. It was easier when she wasn’t looking at him. “I’m sorry.” The worst of it over, she turned to look at him. “About what I said last night. I know how much pressure you feel. Perhaps even more than I do, since people expect something other than failure of you…” she trailed off before she could loose her purpose. “Please, forgive me.” 

She could see his shoulders slump as he turned to face her. “Of course I forgive you,” he looked back out across the water, “but that wasn’t what upset me.” 

She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Then what did? Please, I want to make it right,” she pleaded.

“What you said… It just reminded me of my place.”

Her eyebrows knit together, her confusion evident in her voice as she echoed, “Your place?” 

“Zelda, I’m just a knight. I can't have you,” he paused, looked at her with dark eyes, “no matter how much I want to.”

“For goddesses’ sake Link, what does your position have to do with it?” adding, as the full weight of his words hit her, “You want me?”

“It’s not about wanting. It’s our duty. My duty to you as your knight and yours to Hyrule as its princess.” 

“My duty? Link, I’m a failure in all other regards, please, let me fail in this.” Her words were catching in her throat, and she could feel tears rising. “I want to fail. Goddesses Link, I want you.” She reached out, catching his face with her free hand. “I want you,” she repeated weakly. 

She pulled him towards her, catching his lips with her own, and he responded with a broken cry, one hand fisting in her hair, the other wrapping around her back, pulling her closer to him. 

She found one of her hands trapped between them, and the other went to his hair. It caught on the tie of his pony tail, and she yanked it loose. She broke the kiss for a moment. ‘I really like your hair,” she said breathily. 

He pulled back an inch or two to ask, “Really?” 

She nodded before closing the distance between them again.

He still smelled vaguely of sandalwood, but it was now overshadowed with a musky, horsey smell, not quite so clean. 

His hand still clutched at her hair, angling her head as she felt his tongue dart out of his mouth and lightly trace the curve of her lower lip. She could feel his hand on her waist begin to move, ever so slowly tracing it’s way up her ribcage, until finally she felt his thumb brush along the bottom of her breast. Impatient, she squirmed. He brought his hand up further, first cupping it gently, then brushing his fingertips over her hardening nipple through the fabric of her night gown. 

It was all so much; she moaned against his mouth, and he drew back and chuckled. 

“Good?” he muttered softly. 

“Mhm,” she assented, quickly making use of the pause to hitch up the skirt of her nightgown and slid onto his lap, straddling him.

They looked at each other for a moment, Zelda suddenly unsure as she became aware of him pressing against her thigh. While a total innocent, she was not entirely ignorant, and the thought of what was to come made her heart hammer even faster in her chest. 

He kissed her this time, hands roaming freely over her chest as he kissed her mouth, her cheeks, the her neck. 

Her hands were braced on his shoulders, but began drifting lower over his stomach, until, with a sudden groan, he grabbed her wrists, holding them in place against his navel. 

He held her like that for a moment, dropping his forehead to rest against hers. “Zelda, I can’t. We shouldn’t. Not all at once. And you deserve better than a river bank.” 

Her breath came in ragged bursts. A part of her wanted to protest, but she knew better than to try.

He dropped her wrists, cupped her face, and kissed her gently, chastely. “You should go to bed. I can’t keep you out late two nights in a row.” 

She leaned into his palm as her breathing finally slowed. “If you insist,” she whispered. 

He scooped her up, one hand under her knees, the other braced against her back. 

“Whatever are you going to do if your fellow knights sees you holding me like this,” she asked, eyebrow raised, as he began to cary her back to their camp.

“Yell at them for letting you sneak of in the middle of the night.” After a few moment he added, “I’ll probably do that whether they see us or not.”

He laid her down gently on her makeshift bed and pressed a kiss to her forehead with a whispered, “Good night.” 

He rose to leave, but she sat up, catching his sleeve. “Please stay with me.” When he didn't respond, she added, “I don’t want… I just want to be near you.” 

“Zelda, you know I can’t.” He pulled her hand from his sleeve and lightly kissed her knuckle. “You know I would… I want to… but we’re not alone. It would hurt your reputation.” 

Her shoulders fell as he released her hand and walked off back into the darkness. She lay back with a sigh, sinking further into the lush pelt and wrapping a blanket around herself. He was right of course, as much as she hated to admit it. 

Once they reached the Citadel, she and Link would set out alone for the spring. She only needed to tolerate the extra company for a day. She could survive that much.

Link, however, very much doubted that his reputation would survive that long, at least among his fellow knights. 

His trousers were more than uncomfortably tight as he walked back to the water’s edge. 

He undid the belt holding his scabbard and placed it gently on the ground. He looked around, expert eyes seeing nothing of concern, before unceremoniously stripping and wading into the frigid water. 

He prided himself on his self control and composure. And yet, the very thought of her, of those long delicate fingers, and that pert, curling mouth, and the way she tossed her head back when she laughed-really laughed- was enough for those qualities to utterly desert him.

He doused his head, shaking his hair out like a dog when he came back up for air. She’d tossed his hair tie somewhere; he doubted he’d find it again. 

He flopped onto ground, trying to focus on the cold night air against his skin rather than that way her hair caught the moonlight. He ran his hands through his wet hair with a sigh. 

He would get this under control; he had to.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had originally planned for this to have two parts, but after I wrote this one, I just felt like it made more sense to split it into three parts. Anyway, I had a pretty good time writing this one.


	3. Part Three

The Akkala Citadel loomed up from the landscape like a waking talus, a constant reminder to the citizens of the strength of the royal family. 

It had been her grandfather’s stronghold in his reconquest of the region. She had never met him. He was a man of particular tastes, evidenced by the lavishly decorated, if slightly incongruous, royal suite buried deep underground in the citadel, for which she was grateful. But from the stories she heard, he seemed a cruel man. She thought of his portrait in the gallery, his angular face and steely eyes, and she tried her best to repress a shiver. 

“Are you cold?” Link asked from beside her. He had insisted on being her right flank this morning. 

She smiled at him. “No, just thinking.”

“About?”

“The Citadel. How it’s so important to our history while the people of Akkala hate it so much.” 

“Surely you know the legends about it.” The knight on her left- who Zelda had been doing her best to ignore all day- interjected. “Supposedly it was built by a Queen to guide her lover home from the sea. I’ve always seen it as an object of hope and loyalty.” 

Zelda grimaced. “I don’t think it was ever really an object of hope.” 

The knight looked taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“Legend also says that he died, and she went mad. Used a forbidden magic to stretch the days so that her people were forced to work on this tower without ceasing. Some even say she used it in an attempt to resurrect the Calamity.” 

The knight knit his brows, clearly trying to remember the rest of the story. “But she was stopped by a Hero of Hyrule. Such is the strength of our nation.” 

Zelda was about to respond, but Link glared at the man, his light eyes icy. “Such strength always has a cost.”

* * *

 Zelda couldn’t help but shiver. She always dreaded this pilgrimage; a bitter chill hung in the air, the water of the spring was even icier, and her airy dress offered little protection from either. She hugged herself, trying to warm the goosebumps from her naked arms, but it was no use. The sun had set, the moon, nearly full, hung heavy on the horizon, and she knew she could not run from this, however much she might wish to.

Steeling herself, she waded out into the water, muffling a cry as it bit against the skin of her legs. This time he was there, standing back at a discreet distance, and she drew strength from his presence. 

It took all of his self control not to turn around and drag her from the spring when he heard her whimper after a faint splash. Leaning against his sword, he felt useless, voyeuristic even, though his back was turned, as she began to pray. 

He did his best not to listen to her, reciting the names of the great Hylian generals of the past and the victories they had won over and over in his head. So intent was he,that it took a moment before he realised that her steady, clear voice had faltered. Yet it wasn’t until he heard a heavy splash that her turned. 

She was lying face down in the water. Any sense of sacred import forgotten, he let his sword fall with a clatter as he surged forward into the water. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her up, but she lolled unconscious against him. 

“Zelda,” he yelled, already dragging her out of the water.   
Her eyelashes fluttered weakly against colourless cheeks, but she gave no other sign of recognition. 

He carried her as if she weighed nothing to the small camp sight he had set up earlier that day. Laying her on the ground, he sprinted to their saddle bags, digging through them until he found the pair of thick wool blankets she had packed for them.

He knelt beside her. He’d seen hypothermia before, and knew her soaked dress was doing more harm than anything. Now was no time to be coy. 

Gently, he turned her, quickly undoing the ties which cinched her dress at the waist. Laying her back down he reached for the wet fabric clinging to her ankles. As he pulled the fabric past her knees, he looked up, away from her, blindly trying to manoeuvre her dress over her head, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the dusky horizon until he had covered her with a blanket, doing his best to swaddle her. 

That finished, he crossed back to his saddle bag for his flint, and within moments had built a small fire. 

He picked her up again and set her back down closer to the blaze with her head in his lap, his hands doing their best to rub warmth into the clammy skin of her neck, all the while trying to steady his own breathing. 

He’d seen once seen a man die after much shorter exposure to freezing water, and as a few soft flakes of snow began to fall from the sky, he knew he that even with the fire, he couldn’t warm her enough here. 

He again crossed camp to their pile of tack, hastily warming Alban’s bit in his hands. He wasn’t sure how the horse would take to the weight of two riders, but he was fast, and that mattered more. 

The horse snorted, but took his bridle easily enough, and waited while Link picked Zelda up, still wrapped in blankets. He mounted awkwardly, and made sure that Zelda, nestled against his chest, was as secure as possible, before spurring the horse into the night. 

He prayed he could make it in time. 

* * *

Zelda felt like she was floating, only vaguely aware of a dull, aching throb in her limbs. But, after what might have been eternity, the ache turned to burning 

Her eyes fluttered open to see stone. Confused , she turned her head to see an unfamiliar face split into a grin. “Oh, thank the goddess you’re awake. You had us worried for a while there.”

She shivered despite the roaring fire behind him, and shut her eyes against the disorienting light.

“Where am I?” she asked weakly. “Where’s Link?” She tried to sit up, but the man stood and gently pushed her back against the pillows of a bed she realised she was lying in.

“Please, princess, try not to move,” he said firmly. She relaxed back, and he sat back down before answering her. “You’re in your rooms in the Akkala Citadel. Andhe’s not in the Citadel at the moment.” 

“But what happened, and who are you?” 

“I’m Callum, the resident medic here. And it seems you passed out in the water of the spring. Your knight brought you here while you were unconscious. It’s a good thing he did; you had a severe case of hypothermia. For a while, we weren’t sure if you were ever going to wake up.”  
He had soft eyes, but her head throbbed, and she was in no mood to deal with anything at the moment. “I’d like to be alone now. Please let everyone know that I don’t want to be disturbed. I’ll ring for my maid if there’s anything I need.” Without waiting for his response, Zelda rolled over onto her side, trying to focus on anything other than the pain in her head and her limbs. 

* * *

The burning in her extremities had subsided into numbness by the time her maid came, bowl of greyish broth in hand.

Zelda drank it dutifully, without tasting anything. She had no idea how long she had been there; the windowless room betrayed nothing, and she was unsure of how long she had been unconscious. 

As she passed the now empty bowl to her maid, she lay back against her pillows, shutting her eyes as the woman left. 

Another failure. She could barely feel anything now, let alone her sacred power. It wasn’t as though she had expected anything else. Years of failure had taught her her not to hope, if nothing else. Her father’s words from days before drifted back to her, ‘heir to a throne of nothing’ dancing round and round her head.

Tears welled in her eyes, but she made no move to wipe them away, even as they began to trace their way down her cheeks. 

Her room was quiet save the crackle of the fire and her own quiet sobbing, but she could hear their voices- her father’s, the castle maids’, even the champions’. Even his. Why wasn’t he there? 

She couldn’t help the shuddering sob that ripped through her chest.

She could see the look in his eyes- equal parts disappointment and judgement as he eased the sword from its scabbard. 

Where was he?

Suddenly she heard a crash and angry, shouted voices, distorting as they bounced against the stone of the hall outside. 

Her door flew open and Link burst through, the look of a mad man in his eyes, with Callum barely a pace behind.

“I’m so sorry, Princess, I tried to stop him, but…”

Zelda sat up quickly, swiping at her face. “No, it’s fine. He can stay.” 

The medic paused in the doorway, looking vaguely confused. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes, I’m sure,” she snapped. “And my order not to be disturbed still stands,” she added when he didn’t respond. 

Callum stood in the door a moment longer, his eyes flickering between Link and Zelda, but scurried away when Link glowered at him. 

As the heavy door shut with an echoing thud, he was at her side, his arms wrapped almost bruisingly around her and his head buried against her neck. 

She could feel his breath, warm and coming in ragged bursts over her collarbones, and she relaxed into him, gently gripping his shoulders. 

“I thought I lost you,” he whispered brokenly into her skin. “You were so cold, and…” he trailed off and held her tighter against him. 

He pulled back and cupped her face, thumbs running over her wet cheeks. “Zelda, what’s wrong?” he asked, looking almost terrified. 

“Why did you leave?”

His eyebrows knit together and he cocked his head curiously.

“You weren’t here when I woke up,” she elaborated, “why did you leave?”

“I didn’t want to.” He wiped away a fresh tear. “That medic just about had to have me thrown out of here. And then I was going to send a group to get our stuff, and I realised that I forgot my sword at the spring, and I couldn’t let any one else go get _that_ and I couldn’t leave it there, and…” she cut him off with three fingertips over his mouth and a soft sniffle. 

“It’s okay.” Her lips felt dry; she ran her tongue over them. “Just, please, stay with me now.” 

He nodded and kissed her forehead. “Of course. Need anything else?”

She leaned back against her pillows with a sigh. “Just hold me.” 

He gave her a soft half smile and kissed her gently before standing up from the edge of her bed, already undoing the straps of his bracer. He tossed it unceremoniously onto a chair, where it was followed by his arm wraps and blue tunic. His boots were the last to go, and he stumbled slightly, pulling himself off balance as he yanked them off.

She settled further into the bed and pulled back the blankets, and he- still wearing his trousers and embroidered undershirt- slid in next to her.

She relaxed back into the solid warmth of his chest as he pulled the blankets back over them. She grabbed his wrist and looped his arm around her waist, pressing his hand flat against her stomach. She felt his toes brush the back of her calf as he shifted, pulling her even closer against him. She felt her eyes drift shut, lulled to sleep by his rhythmic breathing and the soft rise and fall of his chest. 

* * *

Bonfires dotted Hyrule Field, and the cool night air was full of music and the drunken shouts of revellers. Far south of Hyrule castle, a fiddler sawed away at his crude instrument, rhythm forgotten somewhere after his sixth pint, while people in course clothes danced with wild abandon.

The harvest moon hung in the sky, and while the young whirled in the firelight and snuck into the shadows for frantic couplings, the old women whispered, “Din walks the earth with power tonight.” 

* * *

When she woke again, she was sprawled across his chest.

She whispered his name, and then again louder. He still didn’t respond.

“I’m hungry,” she said, accentuated with a poke to his cheek.

“What?” he asked groggily, turning his head from her hand. 

“Go get me some food. I’m hungry.” 

He draped an arm over his face and moaned dramatically. “Zelda, it’s the middle of the night.”

She poked him again. “Don’t pretend you don’t want to eat. I know you better than that.” 

He scowled at her as he slid out of bed, and she smiled.

After what felt like an age he came back with a loaf of bread and bowl of oil. 

“This was the best I could manage since almost everyone’s asleep,” he said apologetically as he set it on the small table in the corner.

“Bring that over here; I want to eat in bed.”

He shook his head, and she squeaked in protest when he picked her up, still swaddled in the blanket. 

“Put me down,” she demanded with an ineffectual kick to the air.

“There’s nothing worse than crumbs in the bed. If you want me to stay with you tonight, you’re not eating it there.”

He set her down in a chair and sat across from her, passing her the loaf after he had ripped a chunk away from it. 

Surprising herself, she stood up, loaf in hand, and deposited herself in his lap. 

He raised an eyebrow, but made no effort to shift her. 

“There’s a draft in that chair. My feet were cold,” she explained as she tore away her own piece of bread, dredging it in oil before raising it hungrily to her mouth.

The bread was stale, but it was still a vast improvement to the broth from earlier, and she ate ravenously.

“You know,” she said smirking as she swallowed the last of it, “I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you eat less than I did.” 

She licked away some oil that had dripped onto her forefinger, and in a moment of uncharacteristic boldness, he grabbed her wrist, and in a smooth motion did the same to the oil on her thumb. 

Her eyes widened as they met his, and he released her hand, looking down at the floor. 

“Need anything else?” he asked, still looking away.

“Yes actually,” she paused, making up her mind as she turned to straddle his waist, splaying her hands across his chest as she searched for words. “Would you… sleep with me tonight?”

A look of confusion blossomed across his features. “What have we been doing?”  
She gnawed her lip. “Not sleep as in actual sleep; I meant in in the… euphemistic sense.” 

His face looked pained, and he gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. “Gods Zelda, you don’t know how much I want to, but we can’t. I swore to protect you, even from myself.” 

Her hands on his chest tightened, fisting the fabric of his shirt. “For so long, I have been waiting to feel this power awaken in me, but no matter how hard I try, no matter how hard I pray I don’t feel anything, and I just… I just want to feel something.” 

She yanked him towards her, kissing him roughly, almost frantically. 

He pulled back, panting. “Zelda, I swore to protect you, even from myself.”

“There’s nothing to protect me from here. My reputation’s in tatters as it is, and I know I have nothing to fear from you.” 

He sighed. “Are you sure?” 

She nodded and kissed him again, sweetly this time. 

He stood, lifting her with him, and laid her back down on the bed before kissing her. 

His hands roamed freely over her torso, tracing patterns over her hips and up her waist, cupping her breasts as his fingers brushed over her nipples, making her whimper. 

Her own hands wandered the planes of his chest, still too timid to trek below the waist of his trousers. Eager hands gripped the hem of his shirt and he pulled back just enough to let her yank it over his head. 

“This is just a bit better than a river bank,” she said softly as she tossed the shirt somewhere to the side. 

He hummed in response, and leaned in to kiss her again, bearing her back into the pillows as he moved further onto the bed. 

His skin was warm against her hands, dotted with small raised scars, and softer than she would have thought.

He kissed down the column of her neck, lips tracing a searing path along her skin, stopping at the conservative neckline of her nightdress. He sat up, his hands on her hips drifted lower down her legs, pausing at the hem of her dress. 

Her breathing came in heavy bursts and she looked at him expectantly. 

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked, his voice low and serious. 

In a fluid motion, she sat up, grasping the garment and tugging it over her head.

She lay back and resisted the urge to cover herself.

His eyes were wide as he stared at her. “You’re perfect,” he breathed out on a whisper, and she noticed his hands were shaking. 

“Touch me,” she commanded softly, “like you did before.” 

He cupped her face and kissed her deeply before his hands began to wander. 

His skin, his rough, calloused fingers trailed fire as they trekked lower over her breasts and down her stomach. His mouth left hers- following his hands- as he kissed across her collarbones, his tongue darting out to taste the sheen of sweat on her skin. 

She could feel an unfamiliar heat begin to pool deep in her belly and she felt her pulse thrum violently under her skin. 

She whimpered when his teeth grazed a nipple and fisted a hand over her lips to stifle her moan when he covered it with his mouth, it with his tongue as his fingers brushed ever lower. 

And suddenly his fingers were _there_ , probing gently and it was all so much. 

Grabbing his shoulder, she shoved him back, harder than she had anticipated. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked, eyes wide.

“No,” she responded shortly. “Take those off,” she gestured at his trousers. She could see the linen straining and felt another bolt of heat curl into her belly as he complied. 

Biting her lip, she reached out and tentatively wrapped her fingers around him. 

He groaned and grabbed her wrist. “If you… I don’t think I’ll be able to last.” 

She released him and he kissed her, sloppily, frantically as he pushed her back down, leaning over her now. 

She could feel him pressing into her thigh as he propped himself over her on his elbows.

“Ready?” he asked, nuzzling the juncture of her jaw and neck.

“Yes,” she breathed. 

His hips stuttered as he entered her and her fingernails dug into his back. 

She had been told it would hurt. That is would seem was an overstatement. 

There was an unpleasant tug as her muscles stretched to accommodate him, and she gave an uncomfortable his. 

He stopped. “Are you okay?” he asked, breathing laboured. 

The pain had already passed and she nodded. “You can move if you want,” she panted back. 

Their movements were clumsy and unpracticed as they moved against each other, trying to find a rhythm, but as his mouth found her throat, suckling gently at her throbbing pulse point, it was perfect.

Zelda could feel something building, like a coiling spring, as her hips bucked up to meet his of their own accord. 

And then he moaned her name, face pressed against her skin as his hips ground down into hers, bearing her into the bed with a choked groan, and she could feel the thrum of his taut muscles before he collapsed down on top of her, panting into her skin. 

She ran his hands through his damp hair and felt his lips curl into a smile against her. 

After a moment he rolled off of her onto his back, shutting his eyes with a soft sigh. 

“I’m sorry, Zelda.”

“Whatever for?” she asked, finding his hand and entwining his fingers with hers. 

“You didn’t… finish. And I… Oh goddess I finished inside you and I shouldn’t have and I’m so sorry,”

She squeezed his hand. “Link stop it, you’ve done nothing to warrant an apology.”

“At least let me make up for the first one.” 

“How?” she asked, involuntarily glancing down to where he lay soft between his thighs .

“Let me show you,” he murmured huskily as his free hand began to drift back down over her stomach. 

He touched her again, and she felt the pulse roar back to life as his fingertips brushed the sensitive skin. Soon she was writhing against him as that spring coiled itself tighter and tighter. He shifted position, dropping her hand and kneeling between her legs. And then a second hand joined the first, two fingers thrusting inside of her as he had done earlier. He leaned down and kissed her stomach as the fingers inside of her brushed a place that made her feel as though every nerve were electric. 

“Gods I love you,” he whispered huskily into her skin.

And then the spring snapped, and she came undone around him, head thrown back with a cry she couldn’t stifle as her hips thrust up into his hand and her hands fisted the sheets. 

He held her against him while her breathing slowed, their bodies sticky with sweat. 

She shivered as her flushed skin began to cool, and he covered them with the blankets and wrapped himself further around her. 

“You’re so soft,” he sighed sleepily into her hair. 

She smiled softly as she leaned back into his embrace as her eyes fluttered shut. 

* * *

She was walking through a dusky forrest. She could feel a steady drum beat pulse through the ground, through her. Some unconscious part of her responded, pulling her deeper and deeper to the forrest’s heart, to the drums. She began to run, feet bare against the damp earth, as the beat grew frantic. Trees grabbed at her hair, her dress, but still she ran as her heart pounded in time. Fires burned around her. The drums beat harder, and just as she they would rip her apart, the forrest opened, and she could see a woman, breasts bare and sun darkened, a gauzy fabric barely preserving her modesty, dancing with a wild, untamed grace. Her hair looked like flames as she spun. Red earth splattered her bare feet and naked calves. The fire spread, smoke rising in thick clouds, yet still the woman danced. Enthralled, Zelda watched her swinging hips, her breasts as they thrust forward as she arched her back, arms raised above her head. She could feel the rhythm, feel the primal power of the woman’s movements, even as the inky smoke choked her vision and she fell away into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, if you want to get in touch, or see some writing BTS, go check out my tumblr Lost in Hyrule Field.

**Author's Note:**

> There you have it. I edited this one super fast so do let me know if you have any feedback or suggestions. I've also cross-posted this with my tumblr, https://opal-writes-stuff.tumblr.com/ If you want to, it's probably a bit easier to reach me there, since I'm there more consistently.


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